


From Leicester, With Love - Marileth Week

by TealPiccata



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: "I'm a fun mom", Also OC daughters, Basically Byleth does a bad job until Marianne deliberately puts herself in harm's way, Cabins, Caspar gets punched in the nose and is surprisingly okay with it in a gag, Day At The Beach, F/M, Faerghus four minus one totem pole, First Kiss, First Meetings, Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem), How Do I Tag, It's not the one you think it is, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Meeting the Parents, Reference to another fic, Slow Dancing, Sparring, The OC is a maid and her name is Margot, Training, mentions of other Three Houses characters, one parent at least, they visit one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealPiccata/pseuds/TealPiccata
Summary: A week-long anthology between the seafoam mercenary and our favorite cerulean noble, with prompts provided by @HouseofMarileth on twitter.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 20





	1. A Heiress and a Hired Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne, aged 14, travels home from Garreg Mach after having her crest confirmed. Margrave Edmund sends an escort. (Prompt: First Meeting)

“It’ll be just you on this job. Sorry, kid, but the last thing the margrave needs is eyes on that daughter of his.”

Byleth hadn’t questioned his orders before he set off, saddlebags packed with the barest of necessities as he crossed the Airmid river. The young mercenary followed his contracts down to the letter, even if Jeralt tended to be a little lax in regards to giving them.

There was a logic in only sending him: mercenaries from a renowned company spotted traveling with a group leaving the Ogma Mountains makes people wary, but when their equally renowned leader is absent it makes some people desperate. Keeping their numbers small meant he had more work cut out for him, but it meant less eyes on them, and any who dared to look closer would have to get through him first.

Not that he cared if they did, anyone getting between his quarry and their destination would end up in the ground anyways.

As for the rest of the company, they were set to escort some of the nobles of the Leicester Alliance to Derdriu to take part in an emergency council meeting. Following the deaths of some merchants, there was talk of monsters roaming the roads and an investigation had been called.

“They should be done by the time you’ve brought the girl back to Margrave Edmund’s estate,”  Jeralt had said in between swigs from his flask earlier that day. “That way you don’t need to baby sit her more than you have to.”

Byleth wasn’t going to contemplate whether the logistical chaos among the nobility was going to make his job any more or less difficult, so, using the heel of his boot, he lightly tapped his steed’s side, the horse breaking into a stride down the road.

* * *

Traveling through the Adrestian Empire had not been part of the travel agenda for Marianne’s ensemble. With only enough guards to count on one hand and a personal attendant, they had originally planned to take a mountain road straight into Daphnel territory. A message carried by a breathless courier had changed that, and now the group was waiting at the border of the county of Varley.

A gentle knock at the door of the carriage had woken up Marianne—she had dozed off, her head against the thin wooden wall.

“Y-yes?” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound too dry. “What is it?”

The door opened as quickly as it closed as her personal maid climbed in, mid-morning sunlight only briefly entering the cabin, promptly seating herself across from the younger girl. “The guards have received an early warning from our escort. They’ll be arriving soon.” She checked on an envelope in a compartment under the seats, its wax seal pressed by Professer Essar, satisfied that it had not gone missing.

If Marianne had been tense before, she was now wound up, her posture becoming rigid. The past few days had been harrowing, what with the older man asking her every question imaginable. She dare not imagine what would happen if she were to let him take some of her blood. She didn’t need to be reminded of why she was out here in the first place. “Yes, th-that’s good… Thank you, Margot.”

“Anything for you, my lady,” she had returned before sitting up straight, hands in her lap and almost frozen save for her breathing.

Before long, the sound of footfall came about—but only from a single horse. She could already hear one of the guards already speaking. Taking in a deep breath, she made her way to the carriage’s door, ready to meet her hired guardians.

“—were told that Jeralt’s Mercenaries were to accompany us.” Sitting in the driver’s seat, one of the guards—an experienced one—peered down at the lone horseman parallel to the other horses. “Where’s the rest of you?”

“They sent me,” the young man promptly answered as he moved to climb down from his steed before opening a saddlebag.

“Just you?”

“And the horse.” Pulling out a few parchment documents, he lifted them for the driver to see and verify Margrave Edmund’s signature.

Watching the older man pinch the bridge of his nose and shake his head with some incredulousness, Marianne’s eyes moved to the mercenary as he put away the documents. Compared to her current party, the man was young, even younger than some of the recruits back at home. Even if he was only a few years older than her, his posture and efficiency to his movements spoke volumes of his experiences, seemingly always on edge should the current situation change.

Then there was his face—expressionless as he inspected his horse. Uncaring of a stray breeze blowing his hair over his intense ultramarine eyes, a sharp contrast to his dull gaze. Whatever things he had seen in his life, she couldn’t imagine.

“Um, excuse me,” Marianne said, her head lowering slightly as her shoulders rose in turn. “A-are you the one my adoptive father sent?”

Looking away from his mount, the mercenary’s head turned slowly, looking back at her for a brief moment as he seemingly processed what she said. “Margrave Edmund sent me, yes. Are you Marianne?”

Despite the initial pause, his response had been quick, and now she was silent for the moment as she nodded. “And you are..?”

“You can call me Byleth.”

A snort rung out from behind him, causing the two to look back as a stallion, rigged to the carriage, dramatically swung its head around before settling forward down the road.

“D-Dorte!” Picking up the front of her dress, the young noble rushed over to the horse. “You can’t be rude to strangers.” With pouted lips and furrowed eyebrows, she continued to reprimand the steed as it continued to snort indignantly, though her threats never went above depriving him of a treat upon their return. Seeing Dorte’s behavior not change, however, she let out a sigh before turning away.

“He’s not wrong to be wary of me,” Byleth said as he mounted his steed once more. “It’s good you brought him along.”

“I just wish he wouldn’t do that to everyone he meets.” She watched the mercenary pull the reins into one hand, gently pulling it to turn his horse around.

“We’ll travel as far as we can while the sun’s out. You’ll be home soon.”

Marianne held in her breath as she moved to climb back inside.

* * *

True to his word, they had kept moving during the day, and by the second night they had set camp some distance past the Bridge of Myrddin. One guard maintained watch from the driver’s seat of the carriage, while another patrolled a set perimeter, the other two at rest until the change in shift. Marianne watched Margot tend to the fire, having already hung a heavy iron pot over it to heat up as some vegetables waited to be thrown in.

As for her protectors, the steed remained away from the camp, grazing along with the other two horses, not minding the way Dorte would click his teeth in their face whenever they dipped their head to pull up grass. Byleth had left for the riverside, intending to bring back dinner and perhaps lunch for the next day.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to eat a fair number of the leeks tonight, milady,” Margot said from her place by the fire. “The leaves on some of these are starting to dry, it won’t be long until they go bad.”

Marianne looked up from her book and simply gave her a nod. “I don’t mind. Leeks are fine.”

The crunching of gravel sang out from a distance as Byleth made his return, hefting a thin branch strung up with a number of fish, their combined weight causing the mercenary’s shoulders to tilt. She almost burst into laughter at the sight, slapping her hand over her mouth, what with his serious expression and the still-live fish wriggling at the end. He walked over to the fire and leaned slightly forward, letting gravity deposit a fish into his free hand, giving a few to Margot for tonight’s dinner.

“I’m surprised you caught so many,” Marianne said, watching him lower the rest onto the stones below. “We only need enough for tomorrow.”

“I caught more just in case.” With the back of a knife, Byleth got to work descaling some of the fish, occasionally using a cloth to clean his hands. “There might be days where we can’t find food.”

“I suppose you’re right, more food wouldn’t hurt.” She looked down to return to her novel when a horse’s whiny rang out through the night air. “Ah—!”

One of the guards ran by the clearing the horses were previously at. “Looks like the horses ran off. We’ll try to get them back.”

“Y-yes, please.” Watching the active guards leave their posts and run off into the darkness, and the other two take their places, she gently closed her book, only the sound of air being pushed out from between the pages audible apart from the crackling of the fire.

“Milady, I would suggest you stay in the carriage for now,” the eldest guardsman said in a terse whisper, holding a spear perpendicular to the ground. “At least until the others return.” She had barely time to respond as Margot quickly opened the door and hurried her inside.

* * *

Despite the tenseness of the guards keeping a close perimeter around the carriage, Byleth continued to butcher the fish, setting apart heads, collars, and tails from the fillets, though his hands simply moved automatically as his eyes scanned the tree line. He pulled one of his legs forward, positioning his body into a kneel that would let himself stand up right away. It was only when he saw something move quickly from behind one tree to another that he had stopped altogether, placing his knife down and reaching over for his sword.

As if on cue, a yell rang out in the distance, followed by a clang of steel and something unintelligible from one of the guards.

“Bandits!” One of the guards all but leaped from his position before stopping, pivoting on one foot to look back. “You two, stay here. Make sure no one gets to the girl.”

“Yes sir!” Watching his peer leave, the lone guard held his spear parallel to the ground as Byleth stood up, the point of his sword aimed at the dark forest around them. “You know, I’ve heard a lot about Jeralt’s Mercenaries.” Ultramarine eyes briefly looked over at the silver helm in the corner of his vision. “They’re all supposed to be pretty good.”

“Jeralt trains them himself,” he said briefly, his hand clenching slightly to better seat his sword’s grip into his palm.

“Yeah, I heard about that too. There’s this one guy, though. Everyone’s calling him the Ashen Demon. Do you happen to know hi—“

With almost a bang, an arrow had hit the guard in the chest, embedding itself into his plate armor and sending him back into the wall of the carriage, immediately crumpling to the ground. With only the briefest of looks at the fallen man, Byleth’s eyes scanned the darkness for any movement, but only the sounds of the distant clash answered him. Sidestepping to the guard, he checked him over—the arrow had only penetrated enough to pierce his skin with its very point. He had instead been knocked out by his head rattling around in his helmet, but he’d wake up without any serious injuries.

The same couldn’t be said for Byleth as he was thrown against the carriage, with the barest glimpse of a mace grazing his vision as his crumpled body met the ground.

* * *

Marianne’s fingers pulled the curtain over the door’s window aside, watching Byleth get sidelined by a mace-wielding bandit, the cruel implement being planted into the ground as he looked over the mercenary struggling to stand back up. His voice was muffled by the wooden walls, with the occasional bellowed laugh being the most clear.

At one point, he had kicked the younger man over onto his side before planting his boot on his head, pressing Byleth’s cheek into the gravel, teeth gritted as if to keep his jaw from being shattered by the weight being applied to his face.

It seemed Marianne had started to move on auto-pilot as she felt Margot’s hands try to pull her back, the young noble’s hands already clicking the lock of the door open.

“You can’t, milady, it’s dangerous,” she said in a harsh whisper.

“I can’t let him hurt Byleth anymore, Margot…” She cracked open the door and slid through, the maid sliding into the now-empty seat.

Remaining on the step, her hand holding onto a rail, she saw the bandit’s back turned to her, and behind him Byleth’s discarded sword. Slowly lowering her legs to the ground, she gently settled her stance as to not rattle the gravel before rushing for the sword, the surprisingly heavy blade needing both of her hands to swing as the larger man took notice of her noisy footsteps.

Marianne’s swing wouldn’t do much, however, as the flat of the blade bounced off of his leather armor, the iron sword clattering to the ground between them, his eyes meeting hers.

“And here I thought I was gonna have to wrestle the brat from her little wooden box,” he said as a wicked grin came up onto his face, yanking the bludgeon from its place into his off-hand as he closed in on the stunned girl.

Despite fear taking its hold on her, she didn’t let herself stumble as she backed up between the carriage’s body and its wheel, lowering herself into the empty space. When she couldn’t move any more, her eyes wrenched shut, waiting for herself to be roughly yanked out…

The noise of a body making impact with wood caused her eyes to open, finding the sight of the bandit struggling to stay steady as Byleth clung onto his back, one arm fumbling for something at his belt. Raising his hand above both of their heads, firelight glimmered off of its blade and golden hilt as he brought it down, stabbing the man repeatedly in the space between his neck and his shoulder, one of the impacts causing the bandit to let out a gnarly scream as the corresponding arm flailed before a gush of blood sprayed out to splatter the both of them. His balance lost, the two fell backwards, the larger man’s limbs twitching as his life left him, only stopping when he was shoved off to the side.

Without a second thought, Marianne rushed over to the mercenary, her hand accidentally pressing on his stomach and causing a strained groan to escape his mouth. Realizing that was where the bandit’s mace had hit him, she moved her hands to his cheeks, as if to comfort him.

“J-just hold on, Byleth,” she spat out in a hurry, looking back at the carriage. “I’ll get Margot, she can fix you.”

———

Travel resumed in the morning following the burial of the bandits and some quick prayers from Marianne, as the four guards settled in their seats on the carriage’s exterior no worse for wear. One of the horses had ran off in the scuffle, resulting in Dorte having to share the yolk with Byleth’s steed.

As for the mercenary, he had the privilege of taking an entire bench inside, in a lot of pain from the beating but surviving, with some basic use of faith magic from both women to halt the worst of the internal bleeding. He remained asleep, his head resting in Marianne’s lap as Margot finished applying a balm over a particularly nasty bruise on his side.

“And to think your father hired him,” the maid said in an uncharacteristically deadpan tone, beginning to adhere linen onto his body. “Were it not for you putting yourself in harm’s way, all of us wouldn’t be here.”

“He still stopped the bandit, Margot,” Marianne said, watching his sleeping face before looking up at the older woman. “I’d say he did his job fine.”

The maid only returned a pursed smile and a small head shake. “Let’s just pray we don’t run into any more trouble. He can’t do his job in his state otherwise.” Moving back to her side of the carriage, she returned to her usual rigid posture. “I’ve already asked the men to keep hush about this incident. The only thing your father needs to know is that one of the horses disappeared overnight.”

If Marianne had appeared crestfallen, Margot had noticed, her expression switching to one of worry. “Y-yes… Margot, is it wrong to believe that I miss yesterday?” The maid hadn’t answered, but she nodded once, signaling her to elaborate. “Yesterday was the first day since my adoptive father took me in where I felt… normal. I didn’t have to think about the future; instead, I was thinking about what was happening to you, me, and Byleth as those bandits attacked us.”

“The status of nobility is a burden you must bear now, milady.”

“I know, but… I don’t like thinking about what I do will affect me so far from now.”

“And I would assume you don’t like thinking about the implications of letting a young man rest his head in your lap without a second thought?”

“H-huh?”

Margot let out a light laugh, her posture unwavering. “I jest, milady. He is but a mercenary. Hired men like him come and go to where money calls them. I doubt you’ll run into him again… But please, if it brings you comfort, then you can let him rest on your lap all you want. I won’t say a word.”

“M-Margot...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept you waiting, huh?
> 
> It's been a very long time since I've written anything remotely serious, and I'm sure some of you were disappointed to find me do a zany experimental explicit work instead of, well, something like this. In regards to Hydrangeas are Forever, I have plans to end that with a few more chapters (I'm thinking 3, tops) so as to start a brand new AU-ish anthology that isn't so anchored to the whole "Berinea Bastard" concept. In addition, I'd like to explore a more quiet Byleth early into this relationship (finally).
> 
> That's where my participation in Marileth Week comes in. With a set of prompts (a choice from four per day), I want to get back into the groove of writing, and in general get my imagination flowing once more. I had initially planned to do an art piece or two for the week a la a Marileth piece I did in the days before Three Houses' release, but I think I'll do just one for one of the later prompts of the week. I'll still write a chapter for all 8 days
> 
> As for what's been going on in my life, apart from the general pandemic affecting all of us (and hopefully not impacting you seriously, lovely reader), I've been on a BOTW bend, especially with Age of Calamity on the horizon. Plenty of lovely characters in that universe, and, certain controversial plot elements aside, I can't wait to see what kind of story that'll bring come Friday the 20th.
> 
> This chapter in general was based off of an idea I had in mind for HaF, basically a one-off encounter before the events of the game. It was inspired by some of the side lore regarding Link in BOTW, but instead taken to its extreme of having zero anxiousness about his image in his professional role. However, I wasn't able to implement a similar resentment like Zelda's into Marianne and tie it into a romantic sense.
> 
> It was a deliberate choice to not make the reputation of the Ashen Demon immediately associated with Byleth here only to justify why a bandit wouldn't recognize Byleth as being under the "feared" company of Jeralt and his associated mercenaries. He's essentially just a boy here, after all.


	2. Everybody Walk Dorte the Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family trip to the Edmund coast temporarily goes awry. (Prompt: Animals + Beach Day)

Derdriu, the capital of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, lived up to and surpassed its reputation of being a city of trade, its ports bustling with imports and exports aboard ships from far-off nations, along with many new trade deals thanks to the king of Almyra. The Aquatic Capital’s massive coastline wasn’t solely for commerce, however;its vicinity to Ailell meant fair weather almost all year-round, the citizens enjoying days by the water.

Its relatively short distance from the palace and its more than favorable conditions would make any outing a no-brainer, yet the royal family had opted to travel north instead, the carriage pulled by an aged stallion and his younger counterpart on the opposite side of their shared yolk. A handful of guards traveled nearby, a few on pegasi, the rest within the covered wagon following close behind. Driving the coach was Byleth himself with Marianne next to him, the two having insisted they do the task themselves—not that any staff members were going to argue otherwise.

“Governor Edmund is supposed to be retiring soon, isn’t he?” Byleth absently asked, his attention more on the road ahead.

“Mm, yes.” Marianne’s gaze followed one of the flyers as they hovered over the far-off tree line before returning to their formation. “He said he’ll continue for a few more years, then he’ll hand over the province to his successor.”

“I thought it was supposed to come under the government’s jurisdiction.”

“It is, when his chosen successor is the crown princess herself.” A light-colored mare came up next to the carriage, slowing to match its speed as its rider adjusted her grip on the reins. “I thought you already knew that, father?”

Byleth briefly tipped his head, taking a look at his eldest daughter before returning his attention to the task at hand. “It might have slipped my mind, Lilith. Can you forgive me?”

“You know you never need to ask.”

“I’m still surprised you agreed to come with us for vacation,” Marianne said, leaning forward to look past her husband. “I’m sure your time would be better suited to your own interests.”

Lilith remained silent for a few seconds before throwing her head to look forward, her lengthy braid flailing along her back in turn. “W-well, I figured I should take the opportunity to speak with grandfather in regards to my future position. Besides, I would think I’m a little too old to be splashing around in the ocean.”

“Aw, come on, it’ll be fun!” a muffled voice said from behind the carriage’s wooden walls. “I bet the water’s warm for swimming a few laps!”

Marianne held back a laugh as she leaned back in her seat, hovering her head over the roof. “Geraldine, open the window if you want to speak. We can’t hear you from in there.”

“As if we couldn’t hear her already…” Lilith remarked, letting a snicker escape as a light scraping can be heard, a small hand pushing out the glass pane with its folding hinges.

“Sorry, mom, but I’ve never been to the north coast! It’s always just grandpa’s house—n-not that I dislike going there.” Bright blue eyes peered out, watching her older sister ride along, her steed in arm’s reach as Geraldine reached out to pat its rump. “What about you? You can’t be cooped up in there the entire time.”

“Like I said, I’m too old to be splashing around.”

“You’ll miss out on all the fun though…”

* * *

“Gah—! Th-that’s so cold!”

Sandy-blonde hair clung to the girl’s back as she all but flailed to get out of the water, the incoming tide overwhelming the late-morning sun’s efforts to warm it. Despite her shivering, a large toothy smile was on her face as her hands swiped down her body, sheering off any water clinging to her one-piece.

Marianne’s swimsuit was made from the same Agarthan synthetic materials, its prussian-blue top piece stretched over from her neck to just above her diaphragm, while an azure sarong decorated with the royal shield was wrapped around her waist. “Are you alright, dear?” she asked, her voice carrying a humored note as she helped with wringing out seawater from Geraldine’s hair. “You didn’t get very far.”

“Kinda hard to start swimming when the cold shocks you, mom!” she returned, abruptly shaking her head before pulling all of her hair back behind her shoulders. “I just need to get used to it, that’s all.”

“Starting to sound like your Aunt Leonie there,” Byleth said as he hauled down the last of their beach supplies down the hill. Apart from swim trunks, he donned an old shirt, the silver embroidery by his shoulders partially faded, leaving it unbuttoned and allowing the breeze to pull the fabric every now and then. “Just let it warm up, it’ll be easier.”

Geraldine opened her mouth to retort when she noticed her mother reaching for a weaved basket, her hands opening the clothed bundle in it. “Oo-ooh…“

“I think you would like this tourtière from the Edmund estate’s chefs,” Marianne answered, gently lifting the pie out, already sliced into individual portions. “Normally, they make it for Saint Cichol’s Day, but I had asked for them to prepare one for this occasion.”

Byleth had been in the middle of pitching the umbrella when the queen started plating a slice, its filling a somewhat vibrant yet pale pink between layers of golden brown and flaky crust. “That’s right, they make it with salmon here. It’s been a while since I’ve had it.”

“Likewise,” Marianne returned, handing the first slice to Geraldine, who was ready to dig right in. A firm gaze from her mother, however, had her make her first bite with contained excitement, sharing a mumbled laugh and an affectionate if overly generous shake from her fork.

* * *

Early afternoon was when Geraldine finally returned to the water, beginning to swim back and forth while her parents lounged under the shade. For his part, Byleth was busy reading a new novel from Countess Varley while Marianne leaned against his shoulder, waiting for him to turn the page.

“I feel like I’ve read this before,” Marianne drawled, her eyes rereading the last paragraph. “What did Bernadetta title this?”

Leaving his finger between the pages to mark their place, he flipped the book over to look at the golden letters pressed into the leather. “Signs Among Embers… It’s her newest work, but I’ll admit that sounds familiar to me. I can ask her the next time we see her.”

“Could we invite her for… um…”

“For your birthday?”

“Y-yes! I know I prefer to have it be a personal affair with just us, but lately I… I’ve wanted something different this year.”

Byleth grunted an affirmative note, opening the book back to its place and turning the page. “We’ll need to send the invites early. If you’d like, I can have one sent to Claude.”

“Yes, it would be nice to have everyone over again—“ Hurried steps down the hill caught Marianne’s attention, pulling herself upright when she saw Lilith’s steed run down onto the beach. Before she could ask her daughter, a large mass rushed onto the sand, kicking up dust in a crazed state.

“C’mon, Dorte, we need you to help train the recruits,” Lilith called out, having her mare circle around the stubborn stallion. “Look, they didn’t mean what they said—Woah!”

Rearing up, the older horse’s kicking front legs had frightened its younger counterpart, nearly sending her rider off of its saddle. Throwing the book aside, Byleth leaped to his feet, moving to try to calm the stallion only for him to gallop away.

Standing in his place, he watched Dorte run some distance down the beach, only to turn back around—simply staring. If he was having a tantrum before, then now he was simply simmering. By now, Marianne had also gotten to her feet, watching Dorte with a worried expression.

“Sorry,” Lilith said, bringing her steed around as she gently patted its neck. “He’s never done this in any training exercises before.”

“What did they say to him?” Marianne interjected, her gaze not breaking from the stallion.

“Huh?”

“You said the recruits ‘didn’t mean what they said’. What did they say, Lily?”

Byleth watched his wife’s eyebrows lower critically, his eldest daughter all but shrinking from her place on her mount's saddle despite her being out of her mother’s vision.

“Th-they called him ‘an antique’ and ‘a war relic’…”

Marianne finally released her breath, as if exasperated. “Is it possible for you to continue without Dorte?” she asked, her voice low, but gentle.

Lilith blinked a few times before sitting up straight. “I think we can. I’ll return to the estate.” Once she had left, Marianne started walking over to Dorte, his imposing figure unmoving where he stood.

* * *

Despite his acting out earlier, Dorte was receptive to Marianne’s calming words, even blowing hot air into Byleth’s face (something the former mercenary had come to interpret as an odd form of affection). The two were able to coax him into following them, letting him rest under a nearby tree as a sopping-wet Geraldine rushed over, having watched everything unfold some distance from the shore.

With the sun shining most of its light on the Kupala mountains, it was time to head back as they bundled everything onto Dorte’s saddle, a gentle pat from Marianne’s hand against the side of his neck signaling him to move.

“It’s a shame we can’t bring him into the royal quarters when we said we’d spend more time with him,” Byleth remarked, following the stallion. “I’d hate to break promises.”

“We could invite him on our walks, he seems to like that.” Sure enough, they had already caught up to Dorte, his pace leisure-like. “Of course, that doesn’t mean he can’t be ridden.”

“I can practice my riding with Dorte when we get back,” Geraldine said, hopping over to walk by the horse’s side. “The one my instructor assigned me is kind of flighty.”

Byleth shook his head, letting out a chuckle. “Dorte’s pretty flighty, too.” An annoyed snort answered him. “You’re not? Then what was that earlier?”

“We’ll have Dorte help you in your lessons, dear,” Marianne returned, trying not to laugh at the way Byleth turned away in a huff.

With a tilt of his head, Dorte blew hot air over the younger girl’s head, a surprised laugh answering him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Marileth Week! Usually there's a choice from four prompts per day, but today I decided to combine the two. It's funny having two chapters revolve around horses running off.
> 
> Dorte is a character that's integral to Marianne, being the one character outside of supports and the story she knows well, whether it's her recommending him for hauling rubble or having to deal with one of his horse "friends" giving birth (the second herb side quest in the game). I've always interpreted him as "a cat in a not-cat body", doing things that are far from what one would normally associate with an average pet or pet-like creature. I definitely took inspiration from one of my dogs.
> 
> As for the swimsuit descriptions, I immediately went for the Agarthan connection because... Well, just look at Kronya. I wanted to do some mention of some refugees from Shambhala finding good work in regards to making the swimsuit material, but it always felt out of place. At the very least, you can use the context from these notes to add to that part of the chapter.
> 
> Lilith is essentially the same one as in Hydrangeas are Forever: basically Rinea with a long fishtail braid a la Ingrid. As a young adult, she's deathly serious about her duties, but she's a mama's girl. She definitely struggles to maintain her professionalism with Marianne. While I doubt her origin of being conceived before the timeskip from HaF will carry over here, she's definitely closer to her mom and Margrave Edmund (formerly margrave, now governor here).
> 
> Geraldine on the other hand is pretty much someone who's grown up on stories of heroism (think Cynthia from FE13). Her grandfather's one of history's greatest mercenaries and her parents are both war heroes and rulers of Fódlan. Oh, and apparently she's easily influenced by her Aunt Leonie. Don't know if that will stick. Her intended appearance is that of Sitri with Jeralt's hair color, but with Byleth's pre-fusion blue eyes (matching with her sister).
> 
> I don't have any intention for the two to inherit crests, but I also didn't mention whether they did...
> 
> As for HaF, I won't be carrying over Bernard and René, the twin middle brothers. Those two were definitely a product of the Berinea connection, and plus I didn't want to juggle six characters. Of course, one could just say they stayed behind. They would be adults, afterall.


	3. A Feeling in Our Very Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Byleth’s reappearance, Garreg Mach’s denizens slowly return. He and Marianne make a visit to one Sitri Eisner. (Prompt: Meeting Parents (AU))

Emperor Edelgard’s war against the church had been absolute ever since the initial attack on the monastery. Many had quickly gone into hiding or kept silent about their faith, hoping that would be enough to not earn the wrath of even Adrestia’s standard rank and file.

While most had escaped during the chaos to live quiet lives in remote villages or attempt to find safe haven in Leicester territory, others were not so fortunate, and instead took to the tunnels beneath Garreg Mach.

Despite her frail constitution, Sitri Eisner had lived well in Abyss for the past five years, primarily with the aid of the former students of the Ashen Wolves, and in turn provided guidance (and an earful for the ever money-grubbing Balthus). She hadn’t lost hope for her son following his disappearance, and had broken into tears and unintelligible, yet happy, sobbing when he and Claude had come down for an initial visit.

When it came time to move back up to the surface, the first thing she had done was go straight to Jeralt’s grave, happily talking to the tombstone about Byleth’s return—a far cry from the emotional wreck that couldn’t deliver the eulogy at the knight captain’s funeral so long ago.

It had been a few months since. While the cathedral and much of the defenses were still in shoddy condition, many of the living quarters had been made habitable, even with temporary roofing over the holes. Byleth’s childhood home, a cottage-like home built past the faculty’s quarters, had been a personal project for the former professor, with much of his time outside of war meetings and the like spent helping his mother tidy things.

The three-way brawl at Gronder Field had been heavy on the combined Leicester and church forces. Casualties were kept to a minimum thanks to Byleth’s and Claude’s battlefield command, but even they weren’t exempt from serious injuries, the former having been confined to the infirmary for an entire week upon their return. Even him being cleared to leave came with the caveat of requiring a healer at his side just in case, a task Marianne had immediately agreed to.

The downward climb to the ground floor proved to be a struggle, with the azure cleric having to help him maintain his balance. “Manuela said it’s probably because of my ear injury,” Byleth said, his grip on Marianne’s hands almost vice-like as he planted both feet on the floor. “My hearing’s back, but I haven’t stood up straight until today.”

“I think having you walk around for a bit would help with that.” Pulling away, she allowed the commander to gain his bearings and watched as he made a few shaky steps. “Though are you sure you can make the walk to your mother’s quarters?”

“I’m sure she’s worried sick for me,” he answered, occasionally pushing a hand against the wall whenever he leaned too far in one direction—or fall gently against Marianne in the other direction. “I told her she shouldn’t have to travel far just to visit me in the infirmary, but I think her heart would have wanted her to.”

The two continued through the monastery grounds at a slow pace, at one point a bird landing on Byleth’s head, something Marianne could’t help giggling at as she carried it off with her finger. A few of the sentries at various points on the pathways made a quick salute as they passed by, eventually making it to the iron gate a hop away from the stables.

It was silent in the residential-heavy end of the monastery, at least while Hanneman and Manuela were busy in their respective offices. The stone path stretched up to a grassy area, a lone one-story home seemingly out of place, its lone green-haired inhabitant tending to some flowers in front of it.

“Hi, mother,” Byleth called, his voice slightly raspy from not having spoken the entire way.

Sitri turned quickly in surprise, nearly spilling the contents of her watering can only to see the source of the voice, a gentle smile coming across her face. “My darling boy,” she returned, setting her gardening implements aside as she wiped her hands on her leather apron. “Are you feeling any better?”

Despite his serious nature, he couldn’t help but squirm, especially as his mother caressed his cheeks. “I-I’m doing fine, thank you.”

“I had been praying to the goddess for your recovery, you know. Though, I’m sure you would’ve been fine regardless.” Lowering her hands, she finally took notice of the blue-haired woman beside him. “Ah, and you must have been helping him recover, haven’t you, Lady Edmund?”

The question had caught the Edmund heiress off-guard, her head shaking frantically. “N-no, I only walked him here to see you, ma’am. It was Professor Casagranda who helped in the infirmary.”

“But Professor Casagranda was here when you all left for Gronder Field. I’m sure someone didn’t allow for my boy to fall there.”

“M-mother…”

“Well… His injuries were much more grave before we made our return march. All I was able to do was make sure he made it back to the monastery alive.”

“Then I should be thanking you,” Sitri said, bowing her head before letting her eyes meet Marianne’s. “You should join us for lunch, young lady.”

Both Byleth and Marianne had been caught off guard by the invite, the two young adults eyeing each other from the corner of their visions. Their mouths opened to speak, but only managing to mumble over each other.

It was only when Sitri’s face became devoid of any emotion that their mouths had shut, with Byleth’s lips slowly peeling back to reveal nervous gritted teeth. “Unless, of course, there’s something you two need to tell me about.”

“L-let’s go inside first,” Byleth said, with Marianne nodding her head in turn.

* * *

Age and less than ideal living conditions for the past five years hadn’t left much of an impact on the older woman’s desire to help feed others, whether it was her own family or the odd visitor or two. With the “Mockingbird’s” aid, and an overly picky Nuvelle tongue, Sitri’s cooking repertoire had become much more highly varied, surprising both Byleth and Marianne as she put forth a few bowls of vegetables, a plate of slow-cooked pheasants, and a soup so rich it could make a debt collector blush.

“…’s a lot,” the green-haired man remarked, moving immediately for the stewed chickpeas. “I don’t think we can eat all this.”

“Just eat however much you can. Seteth and Flayn are also visiting for dinner tonight, too.” Sitri began pulling more edible-sized chunks of meat with a knife and fork, placing the bird carcasses on an empty plate before seating herself. “So, where do you want to start?”

The pair had stopped chewing, turning to look at each other then towards Sitri. “What do you want to know?” Byleth asked in a slow voice, his head and shoulders pulling over his plate.

“Just… Whether this is a new thing or if it started a long time ago.” She began filling her plate with some of the Angelica salad. “I’ve heard tales of the teachers here taking advantage of the students in years past—“

“No, Byleth has been kind to me!” Marianne interjected, the room growing silent in response. Realizing her own outburst, she pulled herself back into her seat.

“… I was going to say that I hoped Byleth wasn’t capable of such cruelty, so I must thank you for assuaging my worries. Tell me, how does a noble such as yourself find an interest in my son?”

“Um, how do you know he didn’t take to me?”

Sitri could only let out a warm and bubbly laugh. “He can be a little dense.”

“I’m not dense,” he said, his eyes moving to look at the steaming soup, taking interest in a chunk of potato bobbing at the surface.

“He’s also stubborn. Even if he wanted to go for you, I’m not sure he’d allow himself.”

Marianne could only help but nod. “Well... He lets me be myself, that’s why I’ve taken to him. Normally I ask the goddess for guidance, but when I see him do the things he does, I realize I can too.” She turned to look in his direction, finding Byleth staring back, and gave him a small smile.

Sitri’s gave a warm grin to the pair, her shoulders relaxing. “It’s funny, I was the same way with Jeralt.” All of a sudden, the smaller woman reached over the table, beginning to scoop spoonfuls of food onto their plates. “You don’t need to tell me the rest! I just ask you don’t break each others’ hearts, okay?”

Marianne and Byleth each found their gazes switching between the piles of cooked food and a smiling Sitri, going from ear to ear and forcing her eyes shut in mirth. Sharing a nod, the two began to dig in.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time they left, waving goodbye to Sitri as she closed the door, getting ready to prepare dinner for her evening guests later that night. Byleth was slowly finding his balance now, though the weight in his stomach was throwing off some of his steps as they walked away from the private residences.

“She likes you,” Byleth had abruptly said, looking over to find Marianne stopped, blinking dumbfounded. “What?”

“That’s your takeaway from all of that?” Making a few strides to catch up, the two continued down the path. “I think she’s okay with us being… us.”

“We didn’t even tell her that, though.”

“I don't think we have to. And if you must know, I like ‘us.’” Her hand moved to gently gesture towards both of them.

Byleth quickly nodded. “I like ‘us’, too.” The two continued in silence, another passing sentry quickly saluting. “We should probably tell her that, though.”

“Someday, but not today,” Marianne returned, watching him from the corner of her eye. “Claude planned a recovery dinner party for you today.” The two continued a ways towards their quarters before stopping at another iron gate, sharing a groan. “A-a dinner party.”

“Y-yeah. Let’s not do that today, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of Marileth week—and writing Sitri was fun! I feel like anyone who would marry Jeralt would have a hidden intensity. If you noticed, though, she's more of the opposite one would expect, more emotional but can break out an apathetic mood. I would chock that up to being hit with so much emotion in such a short span, from losing Jeralt, to losing Byleth, then having to live with the Ashen Wolves (this part's the "support" phase).
> 
> Of course, the AU here implies Jeralt remained at the monastery. As for Byleth taking on the role of professor, I would think he'd act independent of the other knights and tail the students from a distance on the day of Kostas' attack. Getting into the concept of Byleth maintaining caution with Rhea in this AU, on the other hand, is a conversation for another day.
> 
> In general, I like the parallel of Sitri/Jeralt and Marianne/Byleth, that of a religious woman who keeps to herself until a knight/mercenary enters their lives and they start cracking out of their shell.
> 
> I did consider the "Lilith" situation for this chapter. Instead, I'll do an alternate version for Hydrangeas are Forever, as a bonus xenologue (i.e. now I have four chapters planned). It'll still be the same beginning and end, but now it's gonna be Sitri fawning over the idea of a granddaughter.
> 
> I've also been adding (relatively sloppy) doodles on my twitter ( WeinieCheeser) that are related to the chapters, though I upload those the day after. I usually sketch something out before writing, as to get a feel for the finalized chapter. Feel free to check those out (or don't if you don't like me shilling, I totally get it).


	4. Reclaimer of My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time after relieving Maurice of his suffering, Marianne visits “home”. (Prompt: Paying Respect to the Dead)

When Marianne retrieved Blutgang from Maurice’s remains, she hadn’t thought much of it. As a weapon, it proved more than suitable in her hands, much more powerful than anything she had thought herself capable of. The other relics were as dangerous as they looked, with Hilda’s Freikugel and Claude’s Failnaught jagged with protruding spikes, yet she found her own to be elegant, with its curving blade and its delicate-looking guard that wrapped over her fingers.

Upon their return to Garreg Mach, she was surprised to find the crest scholar, previously accusing her of being the Wandering Beast herself, now dismissing said rumors, going so far as to make an addendum to one of his previously published reports. Overnight, the unassuming weapon in her possession became the talk of “a new relic”, with a local leathermaker visiting the monastery for a chance to see it himself and create a sheath for it.

It was much less complicated than the one Catherine used for Thunderbrand, but it nonetheless helped ease Marianne’s concerns of leaving Blutgang’s blade exposed as she carried it with her, climbing onto Dorte’s saddle to secure the ancient weapon among her bags.

“It feels like you two are always going places,” Leonie said, taking a short break from tending to her mount. “Not that I have anything against it, I just worry that the war’s gonna trap you guys somewhere.”

Byleth hauled another saddle to his chosen horse, placing the heavy leather seat onto its back. “It’s a short trip back into Leicester, we won’t be on any main roads.”

“You sure you guys need to go now? Why don’t we wait until the next war meeting, that way we can see if it can fit into a march or something.”

With a hard tug, Marianne completed her preparing of Dorte. “It’s a… It’s a personal trip. Byle—the professor’s only coming with me as an escort.”

Leonie placed a hand to her chin, mulling it over before nodding, letting out an affirmative grunt. “Just as long as you’re not getting into trouble. I’d hate to find out you guys got into a scrap without me.”

“I’d rather we not get into any skirmishes any time soon,” Byleth said, placing his things in the saddlebags. “But, if we get in a fight, I’ll make it up to you at the training hall.”

“Oh, you’re on!”

* * *

The trip along the mountain trail had proven uneventful, with even the ever-patient Byleth letting out a lengthy yawn at one point. By evening, they had finally reached the border of the Gloucester territory, stopping for the night and continuing refreshed the following morning, continuing north.

Eventually, their travels brought them to a thin, neglected forest trail, nature reclaiming the path with grass and encroaching shrubbery. Marianne contemplated leaving Dorte behind to maneuver herself through it, but instead the stubborn stallion plowed through the brush, his hooves decimating any rowdy roots that could trip anything less determined.

Byleth’s mount, naturally cautious, followed behind at a slower pace, and they eventually entered a clearing. The Edmund heiress had already climbed down from her steed, her sheathed relic already at hand.

“Is this it?” Byleth asked, his tone neutral. He didn’t have any expectations as to their final destination, but he certainly hadn’t expected a cabin, its wooden exterior heavily deteriorated and any metal construction to be broken by rust.

Marianne simply nodded, already moving for the door, its broken hinges making it swing to the wind’s whims as it hung off at an uncomfortable angle—and finally dropping to the ground unexpectedly, making her jump away with a shriek.

“I don’t think it’s safe to go inside.”

She shook her head, taking in a deep breath to steel her nerves. “Just this one time. I need to do this.”

Resting his hand on the Sword of the Creator’s pommel, he nodded, following closely behind as she stepped through the threshold.

* * *

Despite being exposed to the elements, the interior had helped up reasonably better. It was too cold for moths to come in and eat any fabrics, yet too dry for any of the wood to rot, creaking floorboards aside. More corroded metals littered the place, whether it was ornamental knickknacks or dinnerware in a cabinet.

“It’s the same as it ever was,” Marianne had said all of a sudden, taking a long look around the one-room building before walking towards a few beds placed against one of the walls.

Byleth had gone to a different part of the cabin, picking up what he had to assume was part of a larger piece of a porcelain display. “Was this your home?”

“Oh, no. My father’s estate, some time after he and my mother disappeared, was burned down to the ground by Count Gloucester.” She ran a few fingers against the tussled bedsheet, the fabric rough and dusty to the touch. “This is—was—a holiday cabin they would take me to every year, until I turned fourteen.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Marianne remained silent for a while before moving to the fireplace at the far wall, looking at the things still standing on the mantle.

“I don’t remember a lot,” she said, drawling out her words as she picked up a small frame, the carved wood encasing a faded child’s drawing. “But, I do remember my mother bringing me here, telling me to wait for a man in blue.”

Byleth quietly nodded, watching her keep the frame in her hand as she continued to peruse the other things left on the brick shelf. “Margrave Edmund.”

“At the time, he tried to gain my trust by keeping updates on the state of my father’s estate, but I had always wondered what became of this cabin.” Marianne brought her hands to the frame, carefully caressing the aged wood. “All of my fondest memories took place here.”

“Care to tell me one?” He held his hand out as the framed image was placed onto his palm, the drawing of a few rough figures with vaguely human facial features standing side by side.

“This was where I had my first peach sorbet,” she answered, moving towards the doorway as Byleth followed behind. “My father was rushing us to come here one day and he practically threw some metal tins inside.” Marianne couldn’t help giggling at her recollection. “I still remember him scraping the frozen peach juice with a fork, I think he was more excited about it than I was.”

“Do you know where they are, your mother and father?”

“Did you want to meet them?” Marianne only gave a small smile, yet one so deeply wistful. “It’s been so long, I can only assume they’re dead. Even my adoptive father doesn’t have the slightest clue where their bodies could be.”

Turning around to face the cabin, she unclipped Blutgang from her belt, holding onto the sheathe as she pulled out the blade, holding it parallel to the ground. “Father, mother, wherever you two are, I pray that you find peace. May our crest’s curse no longer be bound to us.”

Pointing the tip of the blade towards the ground, she drew out a line into the dirt and, in one continuous motion, sheathed it. Her eyes remained closed, taking in a few deep breaths before standing up straight.

“I hope they heard you, too,” Byleth said, his eyes moving towards the ruined cabin, only for the roof to finally fall in, completely filling its interior. “Ah—“

“I guess this was the closure I needed.” She pulled the relic close, staring at the splintered wood in front of her. “I think it’s time I moved on.”

The pair turned back towards their mounts, each one securing their respective relics before climbing on. “Thank you for coming with me today, professor. I really appreciated your presence.”

“It was the least I can do,” he replied, steering his horse to go ahead of Dorte. “Truth be told, I would have liked to meet them.”

“I’m not sure they would have liked you.” Byleth opened his mouth to retort, only backing down when Marianne held up a placating palm. “I only jest! They were cautious, yes, but I think they would have warmed up to you eventually.”

Byleth nodded, satisfied with her reassurance. “Is there any other place you wanted to go? I’m not sure the monastery will last if we leave Claude and Lorenz unattended for much longer.”

“This is all I wanted to do, to free my past of its chains, and to continue forth as an Edmund. A-and maybe as an…”

The former mercenary’s head swung back to look at her. “As an..?”

“F-forget I said anything!” she exclaimed, waving her hand frantically at him. “Let’s get as much distance down as we can!”

As if reacting to his rider, Dorte sped ahead, causing Marianne to let out a shriek as Byleth watched. Shaking his head, he looked down at his left hand, letting a gloved thumb rub against his ring finger before pulling the reins, catching up to his travel partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 of Marileth week brings the second not-exactly-romantic chapter thus far. Of course, I placed hints here and there, but I wanted to focus on what I think Marianne's pre-Margrave Edmund life could've been like (or at least her reminiscing it).
> 
> While the prompt was "Paying Respect to the Dead", it would've been easy to go for Jeralt, Sitri, or Maurice. However, I wanted the challenge of doing Marianne's parents, a pair who disappeared when she was 14. I still wanted to play the disappeared part, which gave me the challenge of nothing concretely dead to work with, so I hope this was at least an interesting twist to the concept.
> 
> Also, a blue-dressed individual, having demonic ties (The Crest of Maurice/The Beast aligned with the Devil arcana), having to leave her childhood home, and having a cool sword? That's not your son of Sparda, that's Marianne! The title's also a lyrical reference to Bury the Light.
> 
> This is the shortest chapter yet, focusing less on interaction and more on world-building. I was very into descriptions this time around, especially concerning a decrepit building.
> 
> I've also been sort of disappointing myself in not incorporating more characters. Even Leonie's presence here is minimal at best. Perhaps with the next chapter (I'm interested in using the "Patching Up" prompt) I can have other students do a counseling role for each half of the signature pair. In fact, I'd like to use some characters outside of the Golden Deer for this purpose.
> 
> Hopefully, this turned out to be an interesting read. Enjoy!


	5. Sing My Song for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air between Byleth and Marianne is awkward, and he tries to let her have space. Everyone else just wants them to talk it out. (Prompt: Comfort + Patching Up)

Byleth’s disappearance had been hard on the Edmund Heiress. Stern and kind, determined and understanding, but it had always been her to push him despite his concerns for her wellbeing. All of her efforts were for naught come the night of the ball, with him having prayed for her smile, sending her heart aflutter.

It had been five years since, a half decade of convincing herself to get over a whimsical crush while war raged on outside of the Leicester territories. She had half a mind to decline joining the others with the promised reunion, but Claude had been convincing enough that it would’ve been quick.

* * *

The first few war meetings in Garreg Mach’s converted cardinal’s room had been rough, the former students having little experience with overhead tactical planning outside of their lessons. Byleth had encouraged them to be free with their own suggestions, even if it had resulted in a lot of speaking over each other.

Yet, when it came time for him to provide his input, he found himself taking over someone else, looking over to find Marianne leaning forward in her seat, her mouth frozen open mid-speech. The two hadn’t realized how long their silence had been until Sylvain spoke up, having put forward the exact same motion he was going to propose, and seemingly what Marianne was going to based off of how she looked down at her papers and nodded.

“Yeah, this whole ‘speak as we go’ thing isn’t gonna work out, Teach,” Claude drawled, finishing off his glass of water as he stood up. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. For now, consider having any proposed movements prepared at the beginning, then we’ll go from there. You’re all dismissed.”

Rising from his seat, Byleth began collecting his materials, glancing up to find Marianne hurrying out of the room, nearly toppling Bernadetta at the door.

“My, did you two get into a fight recently?” The former mercenary looked up, finding the loose fabric of Yuri’s cloak dangling in his face, the trickster having been leaning forward to whisper before standing straight up. “I tease, of course, but it seems you and the Edmund girl are at odds.”

“Did something happen between you two?” Dorothea asked, walking up from behind him. In contrast to Yuri’s neutral expression, Dorothea’s was wracked with worry, her eyebrows furrowed. “At this rate, I think Claude will have to exclude you two.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry—“

“Don’t give me that,” Yuri had cut in, his voice firm. “You froze up too, we all saw it. If it was just her, you would’ve continued. It’s quite clear to me something—anything—is on your mind.”

Dorothea gently shoved Yuri, the lavender-haired man simply shrugging. “Yurikins… Professor, did you say anything to her before today?”

“I haven’t really spoken to her since we’ve been back,” he said, before gesturing towards the sketched formation movements. “I’ve been busy with these—“ A gloved hand had swiped the stack of papers and parchment in a flash.

“I’ll be taking these. You go find her and, well, chat. You do that, you’ll find these on your desk when you go to bed.” Like a snap, the collected documents had quickly disappeared behind Yuri’s back as his hand returned to rest on his hip.

Byleth’s eyes wandered, unsure when Dorothea placed a hand on his forearm. “You can’t skirt around it and hope things get better. Even if you don’t get far, you should at least try.”

* * *

Marianne didn’t know how long she had been walking for, having kept her head down while holding her papers close to her chest. It was only when she nearly ran into someone else did she finally look up.

“S-sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” She blurted, immediately turning around only for the individual to hop forward, matching her pace.

“Hey, it’s alright! Everyone has those days.”

Her feet stopped as she looked to her side, finding the distinct vermillion shade of the Gautier heir’s hair.

“So, the professor, huh? Makes sense you’d go for the silent types—Hey, where are you—?”

Marianne swung around, firmly planting her foot down on the stones below. “What do you want?”

Holding his hands up in a surrendering motion, Sylvain dropped his usual playful smirk. “Just wanna chat, as a friend. Can we do that?”

Staring at him for a long moment, she let out a drawn-out sigh, hiding her mouth behind the paper stack in her hands. “I guess we can do that.”

“Cool,” Sylvain returned, leaning against the nearest wall. “So, you two a thing? I mean, there’s gotta be something going on.”

“N-no, no, I’m sure he has better things to do.”

“Huh? Come on, I’m sure a girl like you and a guy like—“ The Gautier man blinked in silence as a laugh slowly boiled out. “W-wow, you’ve got a crush on the professor!”

“I-it’s not funny!”

“It kinda is! Let me guess, this started back when we were all his students, right?”

Marianne let out a shuddered breath, her face reddening. “I-I’m not telling you!”

“Aw, come on, please? I can keep a secret!”

She maintained a pout, but let a sigh escape her nose. “You’re worse than Hilda… Y-yes, I might have a crush on the professor.”

“And you’re worried he won’t like you back.” He watched her nod solemnly. “Well, you’re not gonna know until you ask him.”

“Should I?”

“Yeah, why not? I mean, if he doesn’t like you back, at least you’ll know.”

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Great! Good luck, Marianne!” Patting her on the shoulder, he moved into the hall, leaving her sight. “Hey, how’s it going, professor?”

Stone-grey eyes widened as Marianne looked behind her, finding Byleth turn the corner—and freeze in place.

“Marianne…” he murmured more to himself, unsure of what to do now, especially with the blue noble unmoving from her place. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Marianne’s grip on the edges of her papers tightened, the resulting creases perceptible to her touch as she silently mulled over her words. “I’d like to talk to you… Can we?”

“Of course,” he answered, simply standing in place as he waited for her to speak… And waited… And waited.

“Um…” She took in a few deep breaths, her eyes shifting as she thought over her words. Instead, she shook her head, quickly stepping forward as she quickly pressed her lips to Byleth’s, only for the former mercenary to catch her before she could run away in embarrassment. “Mm—!”

Their kiss was mostly static, the two simply pressing their faces close, but it had knocked the wind out of both participants as they gently pulled away, their breathing heavy.

“I… I admit I might have considered this,” Byleth said, reaching up to push back a stay lock of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t want to assume, at least before I came to talk to you.”

Marianne dipped her head low, her cheeks burning. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, back when I was still your student. When you disappeared, I tried to move past such a childish notion, but then you came back, and then you pulled me in earlier—and now it’s too much!”

Byleth’s throat tightened slightly, thinking he made a mistake. “I’m sorry for overwhelming you.”

“It-it’s not your fault, I just need to get used to all this.” She tilted her head up to look at him, sharing a nervous yet happy giggle.

“So do I,” he returned, relaxing his hold on her as she regained her footing. “Let’s take this slow, for both of our sakes.”

“Y-yes, that sounds good!” Finally pulling his arms away, he watched Marianne take a deep breath, her shoulders remaining raised in elation. “Um, sorry… Can I get one more—?” Her eyes widened as he hooked a finger under her chin.

“As you wish,” he answered, a soft grin on his lips.

* * *

“Aw, they’re so sweet together…”

Huddled behind a pillar, Ingrid, Felix, and Sylvain watched, the latter on top thanks to his height.

“See, this is why I ditched you guys earlier, to get this to happen,” Sylvain said as his hand slipped, accidentally dropping his elbow on Felix. “Sorry.”

“Why am I even here?”

“Because you were about to walk in on them,” Ingrid answered from below.

“I could’ve just walked the other way…”

“Hey, do you think those two’ll take it to their quarters? My money’s on the prof—“

“Shut up, Sylvain,” the Galatea and Fraldarius heirs said in unison, the latter, jabbing an elbow back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 of Marileth Week, and this is probably my weakest chapter in this yet (at least the beginning). I was so focused on multiple-character interactions that I'm not sure I got the prompt(s) right. In general, I think it turned out well—just not in relation to the prompt I chose. Maybe if I had made the set-up better. Hell, maybe just skip it.
> 
> Comfort, though, I had to involve some tender kissing. Granted, it's awkward first-time lip-pressing, but I hope it came off as genuine. Also, I totally had to throw in a Princess Bride reference in there.
> 
> Speaking of reference, is that an "Ain't She Sweet" reference? Heheh, I recommend giving that a old fic of mine a read, I think it's aged well.
> 
> Age of Calamity comes out tomorrow, too! I paid a little extra to have it delivered on release day, so I'll be jumping into that, at least for a few hours.


	6. Count On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth teaches Marianne how to use a sword. (Prompt: Reassurance)

The sound of metal clanging together rang out through the open air of the training grounds as Felix’s training blade struck the flat of Byleth’s sword, the Fraldarius boy using the momentum from the rebound to pull himself away from the professor’s swing. Despite the dulled edges and points on their implements, he could feel the metal graze his quilted doublet, the thick attire pulling slightly around where his stomach was with the attack. His reflexes spurred him to pull his weapon, as if to strike once more, but instead he dropped to a kneel, already knowing the results; he was just waiting for his professor to make an official judgement.

His eyes wandered to a far edge of the walled-off area, finding two of his classmates practicing on their own, their forms sloppy as they struggled with sparring. They were two students of the Golden Deer, having already been present when Byleth had accepted his request to transfer. Ignatz he had expected, what with talk of how a sibling of his was inheriting the family business. Surely the boy needed something else in life to do. He questioned the inclusion of Marianne in the exercise, though, as she planted the wrong foot forward with her swing, nearly toppling herself.

Felix had barely listened to the professor as he was pulled up to stand, his eyes still on the awkward duel to the one side. Something about blocking more with his sword’s hilt.

“Why is she even here?” he had asked, the navy-haired young man’s voice more gritty than usual. Byleth’s expression remained unchanged, but he was sure he got the older man’s attention with the way his eyes blinked from under his teal eyebrows. “She’s a cleric, wouldn’t it make sense to have her focus on elemental magics?”

“All of you need to be varied with how you fight,” Byleth answered, resting his sword against his leg. “That’s why Annette’s training with Caspar.”

“Annette’s training with Caspar because she knows how to throw a punch. Marianne can’t even hold a sword up without getting thrown around by it.” A scream sounded through the enclosed space, everyone turning to find the Bergliez boy holding a hand over his nose, only to then resume his stance, blood pouring out like a faucet.

“Ha, that was real nice hook you pulled on me! Again!” Caspar sang out, a toothy smile on his face as he excitedly bounced on his feet.

“I think we should take a break for now…” Annette’s eyes bounced around the room, worried about the looks everyone was giving them, moreso as the professor turned his body slightly.

“Annette, please take Caspar to the infirmary,” Byleth said, watching as the boy opened his mouth to protest. A quick swipe of his finger above his lip, with Caspar doing the same, and soon he was begrudgingly following the Dominic girl through the large wooden doors.

“Um, professor.” A voice came from behind him, looking to find Ignatz, his training sword resting on his belt. “I’d like to advance my training a little bit, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, but I thought you were okay practicing with Marianne?”

“Well, it’s just… I think I’m at too high a level to continue sparring with her.”

Felix clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, stepping ahead. “If you want to gauge your own skill, then I’ll spar with you.”

“Really? That sounds great! Uh, only if that’s fine with you professor.”

* * *

Letting Felix have free reign sparring with another student was a decision Byleth should’ve set some boundaries on, despite the awe in Ignatz’s voice as the impact of steel on steel resumed. Marianne had been leaning against a pillar when he reached her, her sword flat on the ground.

“Hi, professor,” she greeted, fatigue tinging her voice. “D-did you need something?”

“I was just wondering how you were holding up.”

Her eyes moved from Byleth to the sword slowly. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure if having me use a sword is a good idea.”

Picking up the discarded blade, he held it out, Marianne blinking in confusion. “I want you to show me what you already know.” He watched her eyebrows furrow, but reached for it regardless as her hand formed a vice-grip around the handle. “You’re holding it too tightly.”

“H-huh?” Suddenly, gloved hands wrapped around to adjust her grip, fingertips pushing into her palm as her grasp was loosened.

“You’re more focused on holding the sword than actually using it,” he said, pulling his hands away. “It sounds odd, but you need to treat it as an extension of your arm.” Marianne’s arm moved to test her swing, only to stop mid-way as the momentum nearly pulled her forward. “Try standing with your left foot ahead of you. Keep your stance wide.”

Doing as he instructed, she moved her feet, finding her right foot behind her, her sole curved up with only the toes planted on the ground. “L-like this?”

“It’s a good start. You can pull them a little closer, though.” He watched both feet move to be flat on the ground. “That’s good.”

Marianne maintained her stance, trying a few test swings only to shake her head, standing up straight. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this, professor. You could be helping everyone else with their combat training.”

“Not everyone can pick up a technical fighting style right away,” he returned, moving to stand at her side. “Jeralt—father taught me by having me copy him. Shall we try that?”

Marianne could only nod as Byleth silently took his stance, slowly moving his sword in easily-seen patterns. He would speed up, but only to demonstrate when to start adding power. Even his feet constantly shifted, adjusting for every different angle variation.

“Is that really how you a sword?” The practiced movements were almost trancelike to her, her grip on her sword adjusting anxiously. “I didn’t know, it’s quite elegant.”

“I know you said using a sword was a bad idea, but I think otherwise. You don’t have to resume sparring soon, we can go over the basics until you feel more comfortable.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“As your teacher, I simply want you to become your best. That’s all.”

Glancing down at her blade, she simply nodded at his words, trying her best to match one of the stances he demonstrated.

* * *

“Your sword work is excellent, Felix!” Despite some of the bruising he received during the course of the training period, Ignatz had been pleasantly surprised at some of the tricks he saw from his sparring partner. “I’d like to go again next time, if that’s alright.”

“That’s… fine. I guess it wasn’t bad to have someone learn from me.”

Byleth watched as the two broke apart, skin shiny with sweat as they collected their things from the sidelines. Turning around, he found Marianne sitting under the shade, almost heaving as she laid back against the pillar, the training sword under her hand.

“You did good today,” he called out, holding his hand out to pull her to her feet, which she took.

“I suppose I haven’t learned how to use a sword until today.” Byleth had expected her to lift the blade to return it, but she hadn’t done so. “Um, is it okay if I hold onto this for a while? I’d like to practice some more on my own until next time.”

“I take it you’ve changed your mind?” She nodded.

“I still think it’s very difficult, but I feel a bit more safe with it now that I have the basic jist of it,” she answered, pulling the sword close. “I will get better with it, right?”

“You will. You just needed somewhere to start.”

“Thank you, professor.” The bells of the monastery rung out as the last of the training grounds’ occupants filed out. “Oh, I guess that’s it for today.”

“You have a good rest of the day, Marianne. I expect to see that sword returned to me the next time we come out here.” Marianne nodded, turning to leave as she holstered the blade. Sothis’ voice continued with her usual routine of commenting on the daily going-ons in his life, but he elected to drown them out, thinking of what next in swordsmanship he would show her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of Marianne Week almost didn't make it on time today (at least, here on the US Pacific coast). I've been playing the new Hyrule Warriors, and it's a real blast. I only just finished Chapter 2, but the resource gathering and all of the characters' various playstyles have sapped a lot of my free time.
> 
> This chapter ended up shorter than yesterday's, but I also think it's also a helluva lot more focused. More non-Golden Deer(-originating) characters, too. Of course Felix has to be there as the resident sword guy. Plus, I think allowing something of a TA role works when he's so easily recruitable with sword skills.
> 
> In the game, after getting Blutgang on my first playthrough, I almost always go all-in on building up sword outside of the usual faith and reason. I know it's more ideal to build her up as a Holy or Dark Knight, and her budding talent in lance makes that easier, I tend to reclass her in the Abyss classes. They're a good alternative for when I'd rather allocate training lance for anything else.
> 
> Also, brawling Annette is here. It's a lot more reliable than trying to build her up for axe outside of Azure Moon.
> 
> It's gonna be a busy weekend and following week for me, both in relation to fictional stuff and IRL. Hopefully yours is equally eventful (or not so if you would rather destress, I want to do that also). Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed giving this chapter a gander.


	7. Moonlight Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, Marianne and Byleth find themselves alone during the Golden Deer’s celebrations. (Prompt: Reminiscing)

Claude’s request for a “grand feast”, or a regular feast of uninhibited indulgence as he called it to keep it reasonably modest, had the dining hall roaring as the students of the three houses ate, drank, and celebrated the Golden Deer’s victory at the skirmish. Among the victors, their ever-scheming leader had humored a remark from Lorenz, attempting to match Raphael plate for plate as Balthus joined in, all while Lysithea muttered about the lack of maturity in-between bites of a sweet roll.

“Say, professor, I know you can put down a few plates or so,” Hilda said, leaning in from across the table. “I bet you could out pace those two in that eating competition of theirs.”

Byleth held in a chuckle as he took the final bite from his meal. “I’d rather I wake up on time tomorrow morning. I’m sure Seteth will discuss the final results of the battle with me.

“Aw, boo… It’s always Seteth. I ought to give him an earful about what a break day actually means!”

“It’s fine, Hilda, a small meeting won’t hurt me,” he returned, rising from his seat. “I’m done with dinner for tonight, everyone. I’ll be in the classroom for the rest of the evening, just like we planned.”

Raphael’s head lifted out of his bowl, his face disappointed. “You’re leaving already? But you’re gonna miss all the grub!”

“Gonna be more food for the rest of us, pal!” Balthus then grabbed his glass, the Ever-Hungry King of Grappling chugging its contents down. “Sad we ain’t got any fun juice what with all you kids here, but this is still fun!”

Lysithea shook her head. “So uncivilized…”

* * *

Cool autumn air met Byleth’s face upon exiting the dining hall, the stone pathways covered in fallen leaves. His belly full and his mind throughly satisfied with today’s outcome, he took a few steps forward only for his eyes to wander over one of the benches, finding Marianne sitting by her lonesome, a glass of pressed juice in her hands. Despite how often he found her on her own, today was an odd yet pleasant change as her face wasn’t a familiar weariness and instead adorned with a small smile, eyes closed as she took a minuscule sip. A crunch of dried leaves under his feet had alerted his presence to her, but her mood hadn’t changed, simply waving her hand at him.

“Good evening, professor,” she called out to him as he approached. “Is everyone else still eating?”

“They are. I thought you had already retired for the night.” He heard her reply with a neutral mumble.

“I would have, but I don’t want to disappoint everyone by not showing up in the classroom later.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he returned, watching her take another sip.

The two remained silent, the former mercenary standing at the side of the bench. After what felt like minutes, Marianne’s hand patted the empty space beside her, inviting him to sit down.

“Sorry, I forgot to ask.”

“It’s fine, I was kind of waiting for you to ask first.” Finishing off her drink, she set the empty glass on the space between them. “Um, professor, is it alright for me to think today’s battle was… fun?”

“What do you mean?”

“W-well… Everyone in our class was excited to take part, and they did really well.”

Byleth nodded his head, the motion subtle. “You did, too. You’ve improved so much since the day I started teaching.”

“I did?”

“Of course. You can swing a sword now.”

A light, bubbly laughter escaped Marianne’s mouth. “Now you’re teasing me, professor!”

“A little bit, yes,” he admitted, leaning back in his seat. “All of you have improved. Don’t discount yourself.”

“Thank you, professor, it really means a lot. And you’ve changed too, I think.”

“I have?”

Marianne nodded, her loose sidelocks bouncing. “You’re not as distant as you used to be. You hold a lot of tea parties, for example.”

“And how do you know I do?” he returned, watching the girl hold a hand to her chin.

“I’m usually at the stables when you go in with your guests, and one time I saw you go in with Miss Nevrand right after having tea with Claude.”

Reluctantly laughing at how odd his antics seemed to others, Byleth crossed his arms across his chest. “That probably is too much, huh…”

“If it matters, I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She glanced down at her hands, eventually bringing them together and letting her fingers cross. “I thought my enrollment here would have been a waste of time, but you and everyone have made it better than I could have imagined. I care for all of the friends I’ve made here, and I want to be able to protect them as best I can. It’s thanks to you that I’m learning how to.”

“That means a lot coming from you, truly,” he returned, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. “I think everyone should be wrapping up now. Shall we wait in the classroom?”

Marianne nodded in response. “It is starting to get a little chilly out here.”

As the two moved to stand up, the doors to the dining hall opened with Balthus and Raphael carrying an unresponsive Claude by his hands and feet, a sight ridiculous enough for the two to share an amused grin.

“I’ll continue to better myself,” she declared, her eyes filled with renewed determination. “For everyone’s sake, and yours too.”

“I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 of Marileth Week, and I'll be blunt: this is the weakest chapter I've wrote this entire time. I think it's because I don't know how to write reminiscence, especially between two people; here it's a bit one-sided. It also retreads a lot of the characterizations previous chapters have already, and most of those take place after the timeskip. The problem I ran into, most likely, is that I had some sort of sense to keep everything in continuity, when I should have focused more on one-shots. If I were to redo this, I'd allow myself to write contradictions so long as they were self-contained stories.
> 
> Not a whole lot to say in terms of this chapter, really.


	8. Lily No Inori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth finally gets that dance. (Prompt: Proposal + Goddess Tower)

The tree-wrapped tower by the cathedral had never been an imposing sight, a symbol of life within the ruined walls of Garreg Mach following the first Adrestian assault five years ago. Yet, it endured, somehow undamaged by neglect within the half-decade.

Following Nemesis’ second fall only hours prior, Byleth made his way for the structure at the far end of the monastery, the gatekeeper having notified him that someone was waiting for him there. The soon-to-be king had only gone there a handful of times, the most recent being meeting Claude many moons ago, just mere hours after waking up.

There was one other time he could recall, having escaped the ball only for the distant tower to beckon to him. Fatigue from having Claude drag him onto the dance floor had made the late evening walk a tiresome one, but he persevered, eventually finding himself taking the place of a pigeon in sharing a prayer for Marianne’s smile.

He could only wonder who could have called him here now when word of his victory could not have gone very far yet, and continued up its many stone steps to its largest chamber above. Its arches and the roots embedded into its walls, both engraved decorations and natural, were a familiar sight, mostly unchanged from five years ago to now. It had been tended to since his return, the thin film of dust over the floor having been whisked away by broom since, with the sunlight filtering through the open archways no longer illuminating large floating specks.

At the far end, he found his beckoner, Marianne leaning against the balcony as she cooed at a small bird, its claws perched onto an outstretched finger. Its brilliant orange beak flicked over to his direction before flying off, leaving her to realize who had come into the Goddess Tower with her.

Byleth paused in his place as Marianne entered the chamber, taking a moment to straighten his enlightened ensemble before meeting her half-ways. He noticed a nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth, perhaps a biting of her inner lip, but if she was trying to feign bravado, she was doing a good job. he thought.

“I’m glad you were able to come, professor,” she had started with, her hands joining over her diaphragm. “You weren’t doing anything important, were you?”

Byleth shook his head. “Just following up with Seteth. If you needed to speak with me, I think now would be a good time before…” Glancing aside, he pursed his lips together as he recalled the leadership role Seteth discussed with him. “Now is fine.”

“Th-thank you. I suppose a part of me thought you’d decline, but you’ve always been so accepting of me, despite all of my flaws.”

“You’ve never given me any reason to doubt you, Marianne,” he returned, giving her a small grin, letting his hand rest on his hip. “You’ve shown me strength and courage for as long as I could remember.”

She smiled warmly at his remark, her eyes going half-lidded before meeting his eyes again. “It’s just that…” Biting her lip, she looked down at her hands as she thought over her words. “Now that the war is over, I’ve had to think about what I’ll do with myself. My adoptive father wants me to return home soon, to celebrate my role in helping end the war, but… I worry I’ll go back to some of my old ways if I do.”

Placing a hand on her arm, Marianne looked glanced over only to find Byleth leaning towards her slightly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, his tone reassuring as she returned a light laugh.

“I figured you would say something like that.” Her hands continued to wring together, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’ll still go back for my family’s sake, but not before doing this.” Separating her hands, she gently pulled Byleth’s arm from hers as she moved to place something in his palm.

Slowly unclenching his fingers, he soon found it—a silver ring studded with emeralds, scalloped patterns flanking the largest one as the rest of the thin band contained an etchedweaving pattern. His eyes flicked between the brilliant piece of jewelry and the woman who had given it him, something he was sure Sothis would ridicule him about for the coming days.

“There… Please, I want you to take this,” she said, noting the look of surprise on his face. “Truth be told, I’ve surprised myself, with someone like me offering you a ring.” She nodded her head, trying to work up the confidence to continue. “B-but, it’s thanks to you, showing me the strength to move forward, and now I want to show you how much I’ve grown. To be a little braver for you.”

Byleth glanced down at the ring in his hand again. “Th-this is…”

“I’m not asking you to marry me here and now, but instead as a promise… That you’ll be in my heart always.”

Finally, the initial shock wore away only for his eyes to widen once more, his free hand frantically fumbling for a pocket hidden in his ensemble. Finding his mother’s ring on his person, he held it out, its iridescent gems glittering even in the dark of the chamber. “You’re in my heart, too. I want you to marry me, Marianne.”

* * *

“I… I love you. So very deeply. Thank you for giving me the world.”

Those words ran through his mind over and over as he pressed forward, his lips touching hers as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. Even as one of his fingers grazed her jawline, he could feel her pulse pounding rapidly, muscles resisting throwing herself forward. It was then her head jerked back, as he realized he had pushed her into the stone barrier of the balcony.

“Ah—!”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we were that close to the edge,” he apologized, his hands instinctively at her waist as he pulled her away. The movement had been so sudden, with the pair continuing to sway slightly with the momentum.

Her hands had been planted onto Byleth’s shoulders, somewhat firmly pressed as she regained her bearings only to realize he was still holding onto her. “M-my… This is…”

“I think I did this with Claude at the ball,” he remarked, finding a blush fill her face.

“O-oh!”

“For the record, he pulled me onto the dance floor.” His feet shuffled slightly, lightly pulling her. “I think it went like this…”

Marianne looked on in confusion as he stared at his feet, only realizing what he was doing when some of the minute motions had wider pauses in-between. “Y-you’re trying to dance, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah…” The former mercenary, the soon-to-be king, looked away abashedly, a sight that humored the Edmund heiress.

“Here, I’ll show you,” she returned, her right hand moving to pull the corresponding one around her waist, pulling it out to the side. “I only know one kind of dance by heart, if that matters.”

“That’s fine by me. I’m ready to learn.”

A soft giggle escaped Marianne as she pulled his arm along, what with the idea of the student becoming the teacher, as their feet moved in turn. “Just step where my feet were after I move, okay?” Their movements were kept subtle, keeping within the confinements of the Goddess Tower’s balcony, but the two managed a less-than elegant pace. “It’s a shame we don’t have any music to dance to.”

“That’s fine, I’d rather it just be the two of us.” Marianne nodded in agreement as they continued, eventually adding their own twists like a sudden turn or a lean. “Now that we’re doing this, I think I regret leaving the ball early all those years ago.”

“You didn’t dance?”

She quickly shook her head. “I think I danced with Ignatz, but only the one time. I left after the first song—“ She took notice of his staring. “What is it?”

“Your hair’s a bit loose here,” he answered, reaching a hand back to try to tuck it, only to pull more of her hair onto her shoulders. “Ah—“ His actions earned him a laugh, partially tinged with pity.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to fix it.” Releasing her hand from his shoulder, she pulled it behind her ear as the rest of the tied-back hair fell down her back like a waterfall.

Letting their hands return to their previous positions, they resumed their movements, only this time Marianne had begun humming a tune. With every step, her long hair followed, each wave among the cerulean locks catching Byleth’s eyes.

Soon enough, she had closed her eyes, now accustomed to the limited space they were dancing in. Their steps became less a back and forth and more a twirling in place, the loose fabric of her dress and his cape following suit.

“This,” he said, breaking the silence between them, “is the dance I’ve wanted all this time.”

Marianne’s head dipped forward, hiding a growing smile. “I regret not getting to dance with you then, professor, but now we have all the time in the world.”

“Professor?”

Her head pulled up, realizing her words. “S-sorry… Byleth. It’s still so strange to think about… Us.”

“It’s all I want to think about right now,” he returned, tugging her along as he took control of the dance. “We can focus on everything else later.”

She beamed a wide grin at him. “Y-yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 of Marileth Week is here, and with it the final chapter. First and foremost, thank you for sticking around. While some of my writing got weaker towards the end, I had hoped it was able to encompass a bond between the two of them. Despite some characters from 3H entering my periphery in terms of my interests, and one could say those characters could appeal to me (won’t say which ones for the sake of keeping on track), Marianne is the one I always come back to.
> 
> As you may have noticed, some of this is taken word-for-word from the in-game dialogue. This simply expands on that while also condensing the original. Also, in the original S-Support conversation, it was Marianne who follows Byleth into the Goddess Tower. I changed it up so that she invites him there in order to make her giving of the ring to him much more deliberated on.
> 
> I would say more than half of it is built off their S-support, the rest being original. While I’d rather do something completely original, their final conversation is supremely sweet and one that I could never do away with. Plus, who can’t resist Marianne proposing to you?
> 
> As for the Goddess Tower prompt part, they got to dance, and Marianne got to smile. The ending might be abrupt, but I wanted to end on that prayer of “seeing her smile” being fulfilled.
> 
> Also, that’s not a real dance they’re doing. I just didn’t want to attempt describing any real-world dances and inadvertently inviting any critiques of proper ballroom dancing.
> 
> The tune I imagined Marianne humming as they danced was Superfly’s Lily No Inori, which I think is about praying for love? I’m not very good with my Japanese, but it’s a slow song that I’m assuming fits with the tone of the chapter. Of course, I could be dead wrong.
> 
> Tomorrow (11/23) is her birthday, which I will be celebrating on my twitter (because where else am I gonna do it). If you’re here, I’m guessing you’ll be celebrating in your own special way(s), whether it’s privately or shouting among strangers on the internet.
> 
> It’s also my birthday this week, too (11/26), so it’s gonna be a chaotic few days for me. While I can’t say the same for myself, I hope you, lovely readers, are able to have a good, relatively stress-free time.


End file.
